Turning Another Page
by alotofmillion
Summary: Kurt and Blaine take on a new obstacle in life, but is either one entirely on board to take on their new responsibility? Based on the film Nine Months starring Hugh Grant and Julianne Moore. MPREG. Don't like, don't read.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Turning Another Page  
**Characters:** Blaine, Kurt  
**Rating:** M  
**Description: **Kurt and Blaine take on a new obstacle in life, but is either one entirely on board to take on their new responsibility? (Based on the film Nine Months starring Hugh Grant and Julianne Moore.)  
**Warning(s):** MPreg  
**A/N:** Don't like, don't read.

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Blaine's toes dug in the sand as he watched a wave crash back against the shore and recede into the ocean. The sun was out on a beautiful May afternoon in the East Hamptons, and it was the perfect day – the perfect weekend, actually – for an anniversary picnic, and an important one at that. Five years.

They'd met rushing past each other in college, but not on the greatest of terms. It was senior year for both of them, and Blaine had crashed head on into Kurt Hummel on the way to his first class, successfully knocking over the sprite and lithe man's books in just thirty seconds. The very next day, Blaine and Kurt soon discovered that they were classmates in a last-minute, remedial course to pass college, much to Kurt's chagrin.

It wasn't that Kurt was one to hold a grudge, particularly over something so stupid, but he had been late for class, and he wasn't fond of the professor anyway. And the truth was that Blaine was far too good from the get-go. If Kurt had been a weaker man, he would have been whisked away by the warm honey of Blaine's eyes and polite, gentile way he picked up Kurt's books and apologized profusely. But at that point, Kurt was still harboring a slight winter bug and was extra grouchy.

But as fate would have it, they were teamed up as class partners, and try as Kurt Hummel might, he was whisked away under Blaine Anderson's spell after just a couple of weeks. Once they'd hit it off, it was as though they'd known each other for years. Blaine, too, had been caught off-guard by Kurt's aggressive, diva front, but all of that faded away over coffees and two "lucky" lottery tickets for an off-Broadway production of RENT. It was the closest thing to their first date without actually slapping a name to it.

They remained friends for months until it all came to a head. Their class project had been long complete by the time they shared a warm, quiet kiss on Kurt's bed in his shoebox apartment in Brooklyn. From that point on, life just clicked. They had been each other's missing puzzle piece that neither one could have anticipated. Blaine was showered with love from Kurt's family over Christmas, and that following spring, after little deliberation, they eventually got an apartment.

Fast-forward five years, and their lives were on fast-moving planes, but they still took the time they needed to step back down to earth. And to each other. Kurt had set out to become a designer, and with pieces sold in boutique shops in Milan, Paris, London, and New York, he was making quite the name for himself. Blaine, on the other hand, had pursued teaching. So while Kurt's days were spent whizzing around and ordering more fabric and painstakingly sketching until he was sore in the wrist, Blaine passed around tambourines and taught new songs to eight year olds.

Their lives were setting out to be something amazing, if not already. And while both men were on the other side of their twenties and were clearly content and monogamous, neither one had stopped to pop the question. It wasn't that it hadn't come up in Blaine's mind; it's just that their lives were packed, or at least that's what Blaine told himself. Although they made enough money to afford a two bedroom place that could last them years, a huge ceremony would put them out for years to come, and Kurt wouldn't be one to just elope on the fly.

They had enough to scrape up a small holiday to the Hamptons, however, and the last two days had actually been a dream. So much so that Blaine couldn't wipe the stupid, adorable smile off his face as he leaned his cheek into his partner's shoulder, his glass of champagne clinking gently.

"To five amazing years," Kurt uttered.

He tilted his chin up, catching Kurt in a kiss. Kurt wrinkled his brow and leaned back.

"Four and three-quarters, when you think about it? I didn't love you so much in the beginning."

Blaine scoffed and pinched at Kurt's side.

"God, yes, you did. You were enamored from day one. Admit it, Hummel."

Kurt let out a small whinging sound, turning his head away even more exaggeratedly as Blaine offered him another cheese and cracker. Kurt wrapped his mouth around the cracker, sucking slightly on his partner's fingers.

"'Mit it!"

"No." Kurt smiled delicately around the cracker.

Rolling his eyes, Blaine leaned back in for another kiss and grinned, his hand squeezing at his side affectionately.

"Love you," Kurt finally resigned, leaning back to look into Blaine's eyes.

Blaine smiled back contently and nodded, nuzzling his nose back into Kurt's shoulder. "Love you, too."

A moment of quiet, comfortable silence passed between them, and Blaine sighed deep in his chest as he watched a small family pass to and from over the beach, along with their enthusiastically loud dog. He could barely perceive Kurt's eyes squint in slight annoyance, but maybe it was the harsh sun hitting his skin.

Either way, Blaine worked up the courage to take in a deep breath and look back at his boyfriend.

"Kurt, do you want more?"

Kurt lifted his hand to wave off any more food and leaned back under their makeshift umbrella, blocking any of the harsh rays. "No, I'm full, thanks."

"No, I mean…" Blaine almost had to laugh, but he bit down on his lip. "More. Like, I don't know, settling down a bit more."

Kurt was up just as quickly as he was down and facing Blaine.

"Like marriage, kids, dog, minivan, the whole nine yards?"

"Well, I mean, some of that. Not necessarily the minivan, and I know you're more of a cat person, but…"

Blaine could see Kurt's brow tighten as the dog continued to bark, to which he sighed in sympathy. But the dog was forgotten as Kurt took Blaine's hands inside of his own and kissed the center of his temple.

"Blaine, you know I want to marry you. But look at it this way. We're going to be thirty in three years. We should live out the rest of our twenties like no tomorrow. And as much as I can't wait to plan our wedding and go all out, we couldn't afford a big wedding even if we wanted to."

"Nobody ever said anything about it being big," Blaine said quietly, meeting eyes with Kurt, who merely shook his head and waved a hand.

"Well, you know me."

Blaine snorted at that and nodded, his head ducked a little. Kurt could see the slouch in Blaine's shoulders and gave them a squeeze.

There was something more and even Kurt knew what was behind it. Blaine was around kids constantly and had been broody ever since he started the job years back. It wasn't that Blaine was particularly baby crazy, it's just that… he knew he'd been given a gift from early on. Carriers were becoming more and more mainstream through discovery and awareness, and while it was still a rare condition, it was becoming less uncommon to see men, even in rural areas, carrying children. In New York City, alone, there were already half a dozen specialty carrier centers, and given the right treatment and environment, men could even carry to full-term with few complications.

Blaine had only discovered that he was one through a blood test in junior high, long before he'd even lost his virginity. But once he and Kurt had settled down and gotten serious, he'd pulled him next to him and told him. At first Kurt had panicked and stared down at Blaine's flat stomach as if an alien could sprout out of it. But soon the matter was set aside and nearly forgotten, once parameters were set. They both adamantly agreed that kids were not in the cards, and that if they set precautions, they could live their lives fine. Or, at least, Blaine had agreed. He knew kids were a mutual decision, and he wasn't about to throw all the good away over one disagreement. Every day, Blaine took a birth control pill specifically approved for men, which had a 97% success rate. It hadn't failed them yet.

If Blaine and Kurt had one major disagreement, it was over Blaine's condition. And while the subject was seldom brought up, it was clear that Blaine and Kurt had two separate opinions of Blaine's "gift." Blaine thought about it constantly, the idea of cherishing with all of his heart a little girl or a little boy that belonged to both he and Kurt. But Kurt preferred to sweep the subject under the rug and assume it didn't exist.

Because if Blaine popped a pill, Blaine and Kurt wouldn't have to be one of _those_ couples. They'd be just like every other gay couple in the world that gets on without kids, or eventually settles down with surrogacy or adoption _when the time is right_. And it wasn't that Kurt was ashamed of Blaine, it was just that the whole idea of potentially becoming a father because of happy accident scared the living daylights out of him.

Blaine was lost in thought as Kurt tilted his head and kissed the center of his palm.

"Come back to me?" Kurt muttered.

Blaine faced his partner once more to speak, when he was suddenly hit dead in the eye with a beach ball. And instantaneously, Blaine's scowl was replaced by pure joy as three scamps – or rather, three young girls – ran away from him in a tizzy, squealing and giggling and pigtails bouncing.

"Sorry, mister!" The eldest one called. "Your head was just in the way!"

"Oh, my head was just in the way," he rationalized, passing on a smile to Kurt, who shifted his sunglasses and turned his head away with a nod of recognition.

"Can we have our ball back?" The middle one called. She couldn't have been older than five and was clearly fascinated with poking her finger in and out of her belly button.

"Of course, here." He tossed it into the air and spiked it back to the eldest, who caught it with a leap in the air and grinned. Moments later, the middle one approached their beach towel, pointing down to a bowl of crackers and hummus, which Kurt had specially made for the picnic.

"Whassat green stuff?" She wrinkled her nose, to which Kurt raised a brow. Not that he was acknowledging much of the conversation. He'd gone back to lounging and was quite happy to do so.

Blaine glanced back over to Kurt with a fond smile.

"My boyfriend made it. It's hummus. You probably wouldn't like it though."

"Can I try it?" The middle one asked, forward as she was. Blaine raised a brow and wanted to protest, not because the hummus was particularly bad, but he had been a teacher long enough to know that handing kids foreign food was a liability waiting to happen.

"Maybe you should ask your parents first. Are they around?"

Maybe he hadn't seen the dog coming. Or heard the clatter of voices in the background. Or seen the smallest of the three, a tiny blonde haired thing with pigtails, calling out to her mommy a mere five feet away. But soon he and Kurt had a lap full of wet, slobbery dog, followed by Kurt's yelps for help and the panicked sounds of what could only be their mother.

"SADIE! Sadie! Down, you big oaf."

Kurt pushed the dog off his lap with a grunt and let out a groan as the dog kicked the dirt on to their beach towel.

"Blaine, I swear—"

But Blaine cut him off.

"No, don't even worry about it, it looks like she just wanted to say hello." Blaine rubbed the nape of the dog's neck, who was more than a little overbearing but still sweet as a muffin.

"We're super sorry for the inconvenience, man," a male voice said, appearing behind his wife. He was tall and shirtless and had an incredible body, with blonde hair sweeping over his forehead. His wife was a bouncy, perky, and downright adorable creature, with pigtails to match her youngest. It was hard to believe they were both parents to three kids.

"What did Mama Sugar tell you three about running off out of nowhere?" The mother scolded, patting her middle child on the cheek. "Just because my daddy's condominium sits on a plush spread with its own private beach, doesn't mean you can traipse around like you own the place. Even though we do. But remember what mommy said, don't tell anyone that."

The middle one nodded her head and "zipped up" her lips. Blaine and Kurt both exchanged looks, and if anything, Blaine was simply amused.

"Really, it's no problem at all," Blaine filled in. "Your kids just started playing ball and I think they got excited."

"This tastes like dog poop!" The older one called, having dug into the hummus with a chunk of baguette. Kurt's jaw dropped as the middle child plucked the bread and took a bite from it, her own voice whinging. And soon the littlest one tottled along as well, dirt stuck to her tongue for whatever ungodly reason.

"Is this okay, dude?" The tall blonde asked, making eyes with Kurt before he plucked up the youngest from the ground, littering sand all over Kurt's head. "I can replace whatever food you've got. Or Sugar's dad can. We really didn't mean to cause any inconvenience."

"Don't mention it, just—" Kurt started, a slight edge in his voice.

"No, not at all," Blaine continued to smile, cheery and polite as ever. He was used to kids and their… tendencies to reap chaos. "Help yourself. We've got plenty to go around."

Kurt quickly shot a look over to his boyfriend, but soon plastered on his own version of a smile.

"'Course, help yourself."

"Really?" Sam raised a brow and picked up the small container of hummus, dipping in a finger and eating a chunk clean off his skin. Kurt noticeably winced. "Wowie, that's strong, bro."

"It's uh, better on a cracker," Kurt mused, dusting the sand from his hair and trouserds. Sam just shrugged and dipped in another finger, before he offered it to his little girl, who shuddered and turned her head away at the mere smell. Sam set the girl back down to the ground, and Blaine couldn't help but smile as she toddled off to the dig in the mud with her shovel.

"Sam, get your dog please!" Sugar called. Attention was turned to the dog, whose head was planted in Kurt and Blaine's small basket of goodies. And currently munching on their dessert; a lovely slice of cake from a delicatessen not far from the beach. Blaine had to grimace, but he kept his cool and wrote it off as "unpredictable dog behavior." Kurt, meanwhile, watched with his mouth agape. His romantic picnic with Blaine had gone to crap so quickly.

"SADIE!" Sam barked, tugging the dog at the leash, who let out a foul grumble from the pit of her stomach.

"That has to be bad for dogs," Kurt muttered under his breath, shaking his head incessantly back and forth.

"Seriously, dude, whatever the damage? Just let me know. We are _so sorry_."

"Yeah, sorry, mister!" The middle one screeched far too loudly, before she and her sisters flung themselves back toward the ocean, along with the overenthusiastic Sadie.

"Don't even—" Kurt thrust a tense hand out, which Blaine caught in midair, rubbing at his knuckles tenderly.

"Don't worry about it, like we said," Blaine supplied, shooting Kurt a quick look to _behave_. Kurt plucked his hand back and gave a classic pageant wave.

"It was nice meeting you, have a nice afternoo—"

"You know, you guys have been so cool, we should invite you down to my daddy's place! We're having this huge party!" Sugar clapped enthusiastically, and it was hard to believe this woman had birthed three children, given the way she flounced back and forth like a giddy teenager.

Blaine immediately broke into a huge smile, but Kurt hissed out sharply and shook his head.

"Sorry, we can't. We'd love to, but it's our… it's me and Blaine's… anniversary—"

"Anniversary, bro? Whoa! Congratulations!"

Sugar was at Sam's side, squeezing on her husband's bicep. "How many years? Go on, tell us."

"Five," Blaine supplied proudly, smiling over to Kurt, who smirked back tensely.

"Five great years, yep, and we're having a _great_ day, or at least we were but—"

"You two make the cutest, cutest couple!" Sugar enthused. "Are you two married? Are you just here for the weekend? _Oh_. My daddy is friends with the mayor! Actually, he's friends with the mayor and the governor and probably even the President. He's not in the Mafia, I swear. Anyway, he could get you two reservations to like the greatest restaurant in the Hamptons. Couldn't he, Sammy?"

Sam gestured enthusiastically and laughed. "Yeah, shit, I can't remember the place's name, but last time we were there…. Who was there, baby? Was it the Kardashians?"

"Oh my god, all of them! You wouldn't believe it! It was _ahmahzing_."

"_Ahmazing_."

Kurt at least tried to diminish his shudder, playing it off as a slight chill by rubbing his arms as Blaine swatted him over the shoulder.

"Well, as tempting as the offer sounds," Kurt supplied after a long pause. "Sadly, we have reservations. Great reservations, I mean. And we just couldn't…"

Sam and Sugar seemed to visibly pout, before they cast a glance back over to their kids and let out a mutual sigh. If this was sulking, Kurt had to give them credit. But to perfect strangers? Whatever, it was tacky. And Kurt was anything but tacky.

"Well, if you guys insist, but we still could…" Sugar drawled out with a sigh, biting down on her lip. Blaine cast a quick look to Kurt, who just mouthed "no" when the couple wasn't looking.

"Sorry, we'd love to, but we really do have plans tonight, but it was lovely meeting you and your adorable family." Blaine smiled gingerly, before he stood up and extended a hand out. "My name's Blaine, by the way. And this is…"

"Kurt," Kurt supplied, thrusting a hand forward and nodding his head. "Thanks, so great to meet you two."

"GIRLS! Come say goodbye to Kurt and Blaine and give them big hugs!" Sugar called to the girls, who came running like bats out of hell toward both of the men. Kurt grimaced in terror, but what could he really say or do at that point? It was an echo of "thank you, Mr. Kurt and Mr. Blaine" as the girls heaved themselves into their chests, nearly knocking the wind straight of Kurt in one fell swoop.

"Goodbye, girls," Blaine finally uttered, waving a small hand as the family started to peel themselves away, all except the youngest who pulled on Blaine's pant leg and babbled his name over and over. Sam eventually plucked her away and waved the couple off, before all calamities were gone.

At first it was quiet, but Blaine was still smiling as he tossed the rest of the food into the basket and began to fold up the towels. "Did you see the way the little one hitched herself to my pant leg like that?"

"Typical breeders," Kurt muttered, digging the umbrella out from the ground and hissing as the latch pinched at his finger.

The comment threw Blaine off his balance, and he just looked back at his partner quietly and didn't say a word. Kurt caught the look and gasped.

"Jesus, Blaine, don't give me that look, you were there! The kids were out of control, the parents… completely negligent, and the dog nearly gacked in our food! Our _food_, Bla—what?"

By that point, Blaine was laughing and shaking his head back and forth.

"They're kids, honey. And yeah, as chaotic as it all kind of was, it was all harmless fun. I mean, when do you actually get to see a family like that, hanging out at the beach?"

"This isn't the beach, Blaine, this is _the Hamptons_. And our expensive anniversary vacation, to boot, if you'll recall."

Blaine rolled his eyes and snorted under his breath.

"Kurt, you're being a butthead. They didn't ruin anything except a slice of chocolate cake and maybe your ego. Besides, apparently we're on her daddy's beach, remember?"

Both men laughed softly at that. Kurt's eyes scanned up and down the beach before he let out a sigh.

"Mafia-owned beach, don't forget."

Blaine simply grinned.

"This is about the hummus thing isn't it?" Kurt paused and didn't say a word, just turned his head away stubbornly.

"I just wish they hadn't. I mean, they were so…"

"Kurt?"

Kurt turned his head back to his boyfriend.

"I _love_ your hummus. And it's our anniversary, and our picnic, and our vacation. At the end of the day, that's all that counts."

Kurt's mouth dropped in complaint, but he actually managed a smile as he threw a towel over his shoulder and slid his feet back into a well-loved pair of gray boat shoes. Over the years, they'd learned to choose their arguments, and this wasn't one that Kurt was going to win. Quietly, both men started back toward the hotel, and it was a comfortable silence before Kurt spoke up again.

"Did you really just call me a butthead, Anderson?"

Giggling like a fool, Blaine gave Kurt a playful shove before he pulled him back in for a kiss. And as he pulled back, he hitched his head toward the nearby hotel and took off in a sprint, expecting Kurt to follow after with the same spirit.

Perhaps their anniversary wasn't quite ruined.


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** Turning Another Page  
**Characters:** Blaine, Kurt  
**Rating:** M  
**Description: **Kurt and Blaine take on a new obstacle in life, but is either one entirely on board to take on their new responsibility? (Based on the film Nine Months starring Hugh Grant and Julianne Moore.)  
**Warning(s):** MPreg  
**A/N:** Oh my goodness, your reception so far has been nothing short of delightful! Here comes chapter two! Chapter three will be on its way soon. I'm just tweaking it a bit. This is a bit short, but chapter two would have been enormous had I not cut it. Thanks again for your feedback. And as always: don't like, don't read.

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**5 Weeks Later**

Blaine could feel the world spinning around him as he shifted his head from atop of his pillow, blearily attempting to regain his vision as the morning washed over him. His alarm wasn't set to go off for another ten minutes, but the lurch in his stomach had a mind of its own. Kurt was still rolled over on his side of the bed and sound asleep, and Blaine was about to cuddle into his side when he threw his legs on to the floor and dived toward the toilet.

The bout of nausea had hit him a week ago, along with a slight migraine that he just couldn't shake. It wasn't that he was sick, he just felt _blah_ and sore from every part of his body. He'd call it a food allergy of some sort, but even the smell of food was beginning to repel him. Despite his more frequent trips to the bathroom, he could hardly justify calling in sick over a tummy ache, even if he could barely lift himself off the tile floor. Maybe a day in was for the best, or at the very least, a well-justified trip to the doctor.

"K… urt," he muttered helplessly, peering over at his sleeping boyfriend from ten feet away. But when Kurt didn't budge, Blaine shifted himself on to all fours and flushed the toilet, before he used the sink to heave his tired body back to his feet.

It wasn't until he caught his own reflection in the mirror that stopped and he took in a deep breath. He'd expected to look worn down with his extra fatigue and nausea, but the relentless bags under his eyes took him by surprise. Maybe he'd actually benefit from a few of Kurt's rigorous skin sloughing routines; in the meantime, he seemed to value his sleep more than normal.

"Checking yourself out in the mirror again?" Kurt muttered from behind him, kissing his shoulder before he bumped him away from the sink to brush his teeth.

"When did I start looking so old and tired?" Blaine asked self-consciously, giving Kurt a worried look.

Kurt actually snorted at that before he dried his mouth and rinsed out the bowl with the tap.

"Did you pop a crazy pill this morning? Rumpled and bed-ridden, yes. Old and tired, definite poppycock."

Blaine made a soft sound of indignation and peered in closer to his reflection from a small section of the mirror, before Kurt's hands wrapped around his hips and squeezed.

"Coffee?"

Blaine shook his head in a daze as he pulled away, his hands rubbing at both of his eyes. "No, uh, I forgot to set the timer."

"_Again?_" Kurt glanced over to his own reflection and tucked a hair from off his forehead, before looking back at Blaine in bemusement.

"Sorry, I've just been in kind of a daze. Think I'm staying home today."

"Home?"

"Yeah." He sighed and threw himself back on to Kurt's side of the bed, actually flinching as his alarm went off. An arm jutted out only to turn it off with a dramatic slam of his fist.

Kurt wanted to laugh at his boyfriend's slight theatrics, but it came out as more of a soft sound of sympathy as he sat down beside him. His fingertips padded against the top of his head and trailed over his hairline.

"Still feeling a bit under the weather?"

Blaine looked back up from the blanket and nodded his head, before he reached over for his cell phone off the side table and put in a call to the school. Kurt took his hand and rubbed at his knuckles, and less than five minutes later, Blaine tossed the phone back on to the table and pressed his forehead into the pillow.

"I just need a day in."

"Honey, it's been like… what? A week? Don't we have a policy?"

Blaine had to smile. "What policy?"

"The week policy, remember. If one of us is sick for a week, we call a doctor."

"This is a policy?"

"You don't remember?"

Blaine looked back up at him again, his jaw dropping slightly before he sighed quietly. "Sorry… probably, I mean, yeah. I could. But what are they going to tell me? It's probably just… just a cold bug, you know? So I'm a little…"

"Blaine."

He was met with one of Kurt's serious scowls, and he actually felt himself coiling back into his body as Kurt crossed his arms and looked back at him pointedly.

"I want you to call a doctor," Kurt continued, leaving no room for argument.

"Kur…"

"Or at least make an appointment for this week. Blaine, you have insurance for a reason."

Blaine sighed out once more. "I know that, but…"

"Please. For me."

Kurt pouted slightly, his hands dropping once for to squeeze at Blaine's fingers. Blaine couldn't very well deny that look, so he let out a sigh and nodded his head. "Kay. God, sorry about the coffee thing."

"Oh," Kurt scoffed and laughed softly, patting at his boyfriend's side as Blaine rolled back over and hugged one of his pillows. "I'll just pick up Starbucks on the way. I gotta get ready though."

"Mmm."

"Hey, you promise you'll call?"

Blaine popped one eye open and nodded his head. His arms wrapped tighter around the pillow, breathing in the scent of clean linens. "Promise, promise." He was already half gone and sinking toward the world of dreams as Kurt's lips pressed against his cheek. "Lo' you."

"Love you, too." He could feel Kurt smile against his skin and nuzzle softly, but he was already lost in is sleep just as Kurt busied himself with showering, dressing himself for the day, arranging his coif, and heading out the door. Kurt was long gone for hours by the time his stomach jerked and he hauled himself from the bed and back toward the bowl, chin hitting against the toilet seat as he emptied his breakfast… or lack there of. The familiar twist in his stomach left him hugging at his sides as he lopped back against the adjacent wall.

Tears were smudged under his cheek as Blaine attempted to find gravity. Maybe, just maybe, Kurt had the right idea in calling the doctor. At least, then, he could have some resolution to this problem and take some antibiotics. One hand reached out to flush the toilet before he rolled himself back up to his feet, aching feet trudging to grab his laptop bag off a chair not two feet away from the bed. The battery was nearly dead from the day before, but it had just enough juice to find him a clinic that matched his insurance card. He nearly grabbed his phone to dial the number, when his eyes locked on the handle of the bedside table.

He hadn't actually considered that he could actually be pregnant… but he had all the symptoms didn't he? And there was that time in the Hamptons over their anniversary when they'd forgone the usual protection to be as intimate as possible. Even though Blaine was on the pill, they still went out of their way to prevent any future accidents, but the anniversary had come and they were so caught in the moment that they had leaned toward the side of intimacy, rather than necessity. And they didn't really need condoms if Blaine popped an iron clad pill… right? It was damn near impossible for Blaine to be pregnant, even without a condom, even if the pill only protected him 97% of the time.

His stomach lurched and he bit back the nausea as he reached forward to open his drawer and pull out a small artifact, an EPT test not even four months old. It was an impulse buy months ago and he hadn't even had any symptoms; truth be told, he had nearly forgotten he owned one. Grasping the box in his hand, he read over the expiration and took in a deep breath. He was still well within the window, but it could still mean a false negative or a false positive if he wasn't careful.

"Don't be stupid. It's just a… a spring bug, you know? Or food poisoning. You've always…. We've always gone out of our way to—" He pulled out the thin plastic strip from its casing and glanced over to his computer, the number still printed in large font on his screen.

"Don't be ridiculous," he finally resigned, before he slid the test back into its box and hucked it back into his drawer. He hadn't noticed a steady stream of tears gliding down his cheek until he pressed his hands flush against his face, and he laughed to himself and rolled his eyes. He then reached for the phone and dialed the number. He may not have wanted to take the test, but he wasn't going to break a promise to Kurt.

"Hi, uh, I'd like to make an appointment maybe? Blaine Anderson." He glanced down to his insurance card and rattled off the number for his insurance hazily, followed by his social security number. "Yup, that's me. I've uh, I've just been throwing up a lot, fatigued, worn down, sore and achey—this, uh, this whole week now, and I just wanted to come in and see what's going on. Later this afternoon? That soon?"

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. He'd expected a few days, at least, and with his sinking suspicion of his condition, he'd actually wanted to put it off for as long as possible.

"S-sure, I'm free. Four o'clock is fine…" He raked a finger through his messy curls and exhaled nervously, casting one quick glance down to the drawer. "Great, thanks. See you then. I mean—have a nice day." He hung up the phone quickly and tossed it behind him, attempting to look away from the drawer once more as it egged him on.

It took him all of five seconds to swing open the drawer, rip open the package, and hide himself into the bathroom.

It took all of five minutes for Blaine's world to come crashing down around him with one solid pink line. He had half a mind to run down to the local Walgreens and purchase a new test, but the doctor's appointment was only hours away and…

And he didn't even know what he was feeling in that moment, but he somehow knew this was real as he pressed both palms to his flat belly, closed his eyes, and counted backward from one-hundred.


	3. Chapter 3

**Title:** Turning Another Page  
**Characters:** Blaine, Kurt  
**Rating:** M  
**Description: **Kurt and Blaine take on a new obstacle in life, but is either one entirely on board to take on their new responsibility? (Based on the film Nine Months starring Hugh Grant and Julianne Moore.)  
**Warning(s):** MPreg, thoughts of abortion (this chapter)  
**A/N:** Thank you again for ALL your lovely feedback and alerts. Here comes another chapter, right around the corner, and a longer one, to boot. Hopefully I don't bore you with my words! Anyway, the next chapter will probably come at you in a few days. I just have to think it over long and hard, and I don't want to rush anything. If you're familiar with the movie, I'm taking *big* liberties, but I think they paid off a bit. As always - don't like, don't read.

* * *

As a categorical rule, Blaine despised doctor's office; nothing so clean and sterile could ever be truly trustworthy. And knowing what he knew going into it didn't sit so well with him either. Before his trip into the city, he'd attempted to placate his nerves with a slice of toast, but it had only managed to fall to his stomach like lead and leave him queasy and uncomfortable.

Despite his appointment, he still managed to wait a half hour before he even took a look at the doctor. He'd already seated himself on the edge of the examination table when a middle-aged gentleman with graying hair appeared into the room, his smile warm, if not pleasant.

"Apologies about the wait, Mr. Anderson. I did take an extra close look at the information you gave us, and I understand you've been having symptoms of—"

Blaine cut right to the chase as he pressed two thumbs together over his lap.

"Pregnancy." Blaine stared up at the doctor expectantly, a brow raised slightly as he scanned over the man's white jacket and took in the monogram on his lapel. _Dr. Jacob Green, M.D._

Dr. Green seemed nearly taken aback with the brashness, despite his extensive knowledge and experience with the condition, and male carriers in general. Sure, pregnancy had been the first condition to cross his mind, but he didn't expect his young patient to come out and throw it on the table straight out the gate.

Blaine could sense the doctor's uneasiness and filled him in quickly, if not quietly. "I just—I'm a carrier."

The doctor pulled a pen from behind his ear slowly, even more taken aback. "And you are aware of this fact?"

Blaine's lips twitched slightly. "I ended up in the hospital when I was fifteen. I was inadvertently tested back then and…" He hitched in a deep breath, wringing his hands nervously.

"Of course, of course." Dr. Green's head rocked up and down. "So symptoms of nausea, obviously. Any change of diet?"

"I've repelled food, to be honest."

He let out a soft humming sound and continued to take notes on Blaine's chart, not even making eye contact. "Anything else?"

"Migraines, uh, and just a general feeling of dizziness. Aches and pains generally… everywhere. And this stretching feeling in my pelvis region, like right here particularly." He pressed a hand right against his hipbone and let out a quiet hiss.

Dr. Green's hand stilted from writing as he met Blaine's eyes. He then scribbled quickly and nodded silently to himself. "And are you sexually active?"

Blaine nodded only once. "Boyfriend of five years. I'm on Pacronor regularly and we also use condoms just in case, but we recently skimped a bit a few weeks ago…"

"He's aware that you're a carrier?"

Blaine grimaced slightly. "I told him very early on. He, uh, he isn't one, we had him tested out the gate once I dropped the bomb on him."

"You know," the doctor pointed a finger back at Blaine as he leaned up against the sink and met his eyes. "You're a rare case, Mr. Anderson."

Blaine remembered the look his father gave him after he'd been released from the hospital so many years ago, a bit battered and bruised from a "tussle" after a school dance. All of Blaine's life he'd felt different somehow, but telling your highly respected father with highly conservative values that you were a carrier was not a moment Blaine would wish to relive in a million years.

It's not that Blaine's father was cruel or didn't love him. He was given a roof over his head, three square meals a day, pretty much anything he ever asked for, and as much support a boy could ask for. When times got rough, they had even sent him to private school to keep him away from the bullies. And when he'd been accepted into NYU, they'd reluctantly supported his choice to become a teacher, rather than a lawyer or a doctor or the like. Blaine's parents _adored_ him, and they'd come a long way over the last ten years. But Blaine was completely unexpected, from his surprise conception to his coming out to some happenstance condition passed down to him from a source he couldn't even trace.

In every sense of the word, Blaine _was_ rare.

He finally exhaled then, his fingers anxiously wringing together as he barely met the doctor's eyes. "You don't say."

Dr. Green seemed to read behind Blaine's slightly passive-aggressive tone.

"No, I don't mean carrier wise. Carriers aren't anything new. For obvious reasons, it's frustrating to scrounge up statistics, given the grand majority of men who simply don't know or won't disclose. But it's a small gap, we think. Smaller than you might think."

"Really?" Blaine crinkled his brow, looking back up at the doctor more confidently. He'd known he was a carrier for so long that it had become akin to his sexuality and a part of him. And not necessarily anything he was ashamed of either—just, it just _was_. He lived with it in the best way he could. "But that's—how even?"

"Well, it's a gene that's mutated through successful carrier pregnancies. Of course, the only way to impregnate a man is through penetration, and the population of gay men to straight men is a significantly lower, which only makes the condition easier to conceal. Millions of straight men could be walking around with the carrier gene."

"So why does that make me such a rare case?" Blaine couldn't help but feel like something of a pariah as he rubbed at his arm anxiously. Dr. Green nodded in understanding.

"It's all about awareness. Would you have any reason to know that you were a carrier had it not been for a blood test when you were younger? The mass population seems well aware that male pregnancies exist, but unknowing carriers will still put off their symptoms for months on end, only to find—well, I think you can get at what I'm telling you by now."

Blaine shuddered slightly and nodded his head in sudden understanding.

"You've been on Pacronor four, five years?"

"Five, yeah, five." Blaine nodded steadily, still lost in the same train of thought. "I… know the FDA had to jump through a million and one hoops to even put it out there though."

Dr. Green smiled patiently as he set down Blaine's chart and crossed his arms. "And you'd bet there are millions who wouldn't mind plucking it away with the up-and-coming election. It's a bureaucratic nightmare, but God knows if there was more awareness or early testing or testing at the same time as HIV, we could actually regulate more drugs on the market."

He let out a very personal sigh and rubbed at his brow, before he shook his head and glanced up at the clock. Time was passing away, and he still had one more consultation after Blaine's. "Anyway, enough about politics." He gave Blaine a warm smile and met his eyes once more. "Would you like to take a look at your baby?"

Blaine's mouth dropped suddenly and the color drained from his cheeks as the brashness of Dr. Green's approach took him completely back. "We—don't even know if I… but shouldn't you run a blood test?"

The doctor washed his hands before he pulled on a pair of latex gloves. "Mr. Anderson, I'm not usually this brash with my patients, at least that's what they tell me. But is it fair to assume that you took a pregnancy test before coming into my office?"

Blaine was dead quiet as he glanced back down into his lap, his mouth opening only a slight bit. That was all the confirmation Dr. Green needed.

"Look, I'm not trying to scare you or be the big bad doctor. I know you came in because you were fatigued and nauseous and obviously uncomfortable. If you're still understandably on the fence about being pregnant, I can take a sample of your blood and measure your hCG levels and get back to you in a couple of days."

Blaine looked back at him expectantly, even quirking a brow. "Or?"

"Or I can give you an ultrasound."

Blaine categorically hated needles, and he knew the anxiety of waiting several days on end for the answer to a question he already knew would push him over the edge. Still, he entertained both ideas in his head before he bobbed his head up and down slowly. "I… guess I'll take the ultrasound then. But _wait_."

Dr. Green only raised an expectant eyebrow, to which Blaine continued.

"You're ruled out any other possibility? Dehydration? Diabetes? Hell, the common cold?"

Dr. Green considered Blaine's statement, before he smiled in comfort and thought up an explanation for his streak of confident. Blaine could practically see the wheels turning in his head, and god, Dr. Green may have terrified him in every sense of the word, but he went with his gut instinct as well as Blaine did and didn't beat around the bush.

"Your hips are aching because the bones need to actually widen to support the birth canal. And unfortunately, they'll ache more over the next coming weeks. Although the fetus isn't so much a violation, it's an unconventional intrusion to the male form, as you can imagine."

"So the ache in my pelvis?"

"That was the big tip-off for me, honestly. It's a symptom prevalent in carriers like yourself. And unlike women who are born entirely equipped, the symptoms for carriers don't develop until pregnancy."

Blaine nodded along, biting down on his bottom lip. "Birth canal? So it…?"

The doctor cleared his throat. "Theoretically, yes, but many men take alternate measures. I'll give you some more information on your way out. In the meantime, would you mind lifting your shirt up and lying back for me?"

Blaine was dead silent for a moment before he nodded his head quickly and shifted back onto the examination chair. He then lifted up his shirt as his eyes scattered around the room. Dr. Green wheeled over the screen and tapped at a few keys, before he revealed a wand and a clear gel.

"Breathe and relax. This will be cold—" Blaine's gut recessed as the wand grazed over his flat belly. "—Oops, told you."

Both men shared nervous, delicate laughs, before Blaine turned his head over to the screen. The room was dead silent before Dr. Green let out a small "aha" and smiled to himself.

"See that… tiny circle. That would be the amniotic sac. And just inside of it is…"

Blaine suddenly forgot to breathe as he leaned in closer and brushed his fingers over the screen. "Y-yes... _oh_."

His hand flew back quickly, to which Dr. Green muttered "it's all right" and let him continue. But Blaine was in such a daze, he could barely make out anything he said, and God, the tears weren't pricking in his eyes. They absolutely _couldn't_. He had to keep his cool. He didn't even know if he wanted to keep it.

"Jesus, you're actually pretty good, doc," Blaine found himself muttering, to which Dr. Green only laughed. "How far along, you think?" He continued, swallowing the huge clog in his throat that had built up steadily over the last few seconds. His voice was even quieter than usual, and try as he might, he couldn't peel his eyes away.

Dr. Green squinted ever so slightly. "Looking at it with the blind eye, I'd say… four-five weeks. We can't exactly base it off your last missed menstruation, now can we?"

Blaine sucked in a deep breath at that before he exhaled into a laugh. "No… no." Jesus, it was still all too much for him. "But we, uh, we didn't always use protection over our anniversary, and that was—five weeks ago?"

Five weeks ago.

"Five weeks ago," the doctor muttered, before he shot a quick glance to the calendar up on the wall. Blaine thought long and hard, tracing back to the exact weekend and the lovely dinner they shared and that night at the hotel._ That night at the hotel._

"May 4th," Blaine added quickly. "May 4th was our anniversary and we just said 'fuck it.' Sorry, excuse my language. We'd had a bit to drink though. It has to be May 4th."

"May 4th," Dr. Green parroted, before he notated the date back into the chart and set it aside once more. "And today is June 13th, which puts you at approximately four weeks and four days. How does a February baby sound?"

Blaine suddenly burst into laughter at that, his hand pressing against his cheek as a few tears manage to spring out of nowhere. Dr. Green looked up suddenly.

"Mr. Anderson?"

"S—sorry, it's just a lot."

Dr. Green smiled in comfort and looked back at the screen, before he handed a few tissues over to Blaine. "I'm going to write you out a cocktail of prenatal vitamins, as well as a very low dosage estrogen pill. Don't worry, your voice won't change and you won't lose any hair, it just helps the process along. How many pictures would you like?"

Blaine was still dabbing at his cheek as he glanced back to the screen. He'd completely forgotten about pictures. "Oh… uh? Two?"

"Two it is." The doctor pressed a few more buttons before he handed Blaine another tissue. "Get yourself cleaned up and I'll have the prescription for you up at the receptionist. Do you have any questions?"

_"Which building should I throw myself off of?" _immediately came to mind, but he tucked it away in the recesses of his mind and kept a strong poker face. "Yeah, uh, two actually." He cleaned the surface of his belly good and dry, resisting the urge to press his hands flat against his midsection. "First of all, are you a maternity doctor? I just don't recall ever asking for a pregnancy test."

Dr. Green smiled wryly as he pulled away the wand and pushed aside the ultrasound machine. He then set an envelope beside Blaine. "That's yours. Yes, going on fifteen years now. But our other main practitioner Dr. Talanaki is in France, which means I've taken over some clinical examinations. Nobody was trying to pull a fast one on you, I mean. I happen to have a wealth of experience with carrier pregnancies, but I also know a great deal about laryngitis and food poisoning."

Blaine nodded his head slowly, still taking it in all in in small fragments.

"Sure, doctor."

"You should know," he continued, "I'm not one of your sophisticated carrier doctors with my own special on Dateline, but I have delivered thousands of healthy babies – traditional and carrier. And I can also give you some great referrals, too."

"My second question," Blaine interjected, raising his brow. "What are my options?"

Much to his own chagrin, Dr. Green seemed far more blasé on the outside than he actually let off. Quiet and stoic to a T, he revealed a card from his front pocket and handed it to Blaine, before he met the young man's eyes once more.

"It's a personal decision for everyone. My direct line is on there with my extension, and whatever the case, I'm only a phone call away."

Blaine nodded his head, staring back down at the card a bit intensely as his hand crept flat over his belly and pressed in ever so slightly. Unconsciously, he brushed his thumb back and forth against the skin, a motion Dr. Green perceived but didn't bring to the surface.

"If it isn't too bold to say, you seem like a well-put together guy and very well informed, and based on what you've said, you seem like you're in a loving relationship. I'm not really at liberty to tell you, but just give it some deep thought. Both you _and_ your boyfriend."

It was just then that Blaine recognized the slow movement of his thumb. He turned beet red before pulling down his shirt again and offered the doctor a small smile of gratitude.

"Thanks, Dr. Green. For everything. I won't take up any more of your time, I know you've got other patients." Blaine shoved his hand forward to shake his.

"No, it was no problem at all." The doctor passed on a smile, patting his hand back over Blaine's.

Although attempting to appear as complacent as possible, inside Blaine was screaming. As much as he could try to keep this a secret over the next few days, he knew he couldn't get out of telling Kurt. Not in a million years. And that, alone, rattled his insides more than a five week old embryo. He was in such a state that he hadn't noticed that he'd left the envelope as he pulled his bag over his shoulder, ignoring the now familiar twist in his stomach that seemed to follow him everywhere he went.

He hadn't noticed two acquaintances step out of a lift and into the elevator bank, not even as a young woman gasped from behind him. Lost in his own little world, he felt more self-conscious than ever, as if the whole world around him knew his little secret. Anxiously, he pulled at his loose windbreaker and nearly walked into the lift, when he felt fingers tug against his elbow.

"I am so sorry to bother you, sir, but-Sammy, look who it is! It's… is it _Ben_, isn't it? We met last month! On my daddy's beach!"

Blaine's mind just barely registered the young woman's face as recognizable; it wasn't until he caught sight of two familiar pigtails that his jaw dropped slightly and his weight shifted. He couldn't help but smile in surprise as he took a few steps away from the elevator.

"Pigtails and Sadie, right?"

Sugar immediately squealed and nodded enthusiastically before she pulled Blaine right into an earth shifting hug. He let out a soft "oof" of surprise, before he made eyes with S… Sam, wasn't it? Surfer Sam, who gave a small nod and flashed an easy-going smile.

"Sugar, let the man breathe."

"It's Blaine, by the way," Blaine interjected, waving a hand as Sugar took a step back.

"Blaine! Blaine and Kurt. The cute gays. Am I right?"

Blaine couldn't help but blush lightly and shrug his shoulders back, before he gestured back to the elevator. "That would be us. Anyway, I really should get—"

"Wait a second, mister. What are you doing at Dr. Green's office? He's our maternity doctor." Sugar crossed her arms and raised a brow, her lips pursing forward as she expectantly awaited Blaine's response.

Blaine's jaw dropped slightly before he let out a nervous laugh. He'd acted enough in his high school school choir to pull this off; he could do this, couldn't he? Even if Sugar and her family were sweet people, he didn't exactly want to broadcast the news from the rooftops yet.

"Ugh, I just had some bad Chinese last night and Dr. Green took me in. Great doctor though. Let's hope the worst of it's over." He nodded his head and let out a nervous laugh; Sugar and Sam seemed to buy it, but Blaine wasn't about to sit around and milk a lie.

Yet, somehow, he had to go and open his mouth even more.

"But wait, you two…?" He burst into a wide grin at that as Sam wrapped his fingers through Sugar's and set them flat against her midsection.

"Six weeks!" Sugar beamed before leaning in for a sweet kiss with her husband. "They put you with the right doctor today. We've been going to Dr. Green for _years_, he's a total dream. He's an old golfing friend of my daddy's, and first he gave me these awesome fertility drugs. That's when we started popping out girls like crazy. We're not even thirty! We look good, huh? So this is the last one for sure, and we're positive it's a boy. Aren't we?"

Sam nodded his head as he rubbed a thumb softly against Sugar's wrist. "Sure we are, babe. Father's intuition. That boy's going to play for the Giants, if I have any say in it."

Sugar giggled and tapped at Sam's cheek, before she spoke again with no hint of sarcasm. "Honey, we know the coach."

Blaine smiled nervously before readjusting the strap on his bag.

"Well, congratulations. I'm really happy for you, but I really gotta—"

He took one step back, only to be interrupted by Dr. Green racing toward him and calling his name, all the while clutching Blaine's manila envelope. He pinched at his brow and cursed under his breath before he held a hand out, mustering up an awkward smile.

"Dr. Green, thank you, I hadn't known I'd—"

"There's something else. I re-wrote you a new prescription. I couldn't help but notice that you looked a little pale during our consultation, so I put down a reliable over-the-counter anti-nausea drug that should last you through your first trimester, if the… well, if you should…"

Blaine gave a small smile and nodded his head, grateful to be holding the envelope as he met the doctor's eyes. "Thank you. Really."

Dr. Green gave him a warm pat on the shoulder. "And Mr. Anderson? You _can_ call me any time, even just to talk through your options. But I do hope I don't see you until your follow-up appointment this time, next month."

Blaine's eyes pierced with emotion, but he held it together as he gave another small nod and bowed his head slightly. "Thank you again. I'll call you. Th—thank you." He exhaled deeply and nodded his head as Dr. Green said his quick hellos to Sugar and Sam and gestured that he'd be ready in five minutes. Blaine looked up to meet the couple's intense stares, their mouths slightly agape, but turned up. All focus turned to Blaine's midsection, and he looked down as well, rather self-consciously.

"Did I cut himself shaving?"

Before he could think another word, he had an armful of Sugar Motta. She squeezed him extra tight and let out another excited squeal, before she rattled off quickly. "_Baby_. You're a… that means you and Kurt—you're having a _baby!_ Just for the record, I am _all_ for unconventional families, and the carrier thing? It's your body, you were_ born this way_, baby! And more importantly, we'll be pregnant _together!_" She stepped back and grinned widely, and her smile was so infectious that Blaine couldn't help but duck his head down and blush crimson. Even Sam looked pretty content from over Blaine's shoulder, but in typical guy fashion, he only gave Blaine a nod of congratulations, to which Blaine nodded back.

Sugar was obviously in control of the whole situation.

"Blaine, why didn't you just tell us in the first place? You've got nothing to be ashamed about."

"I—" He leaned in closer and spoke more quietly. "The whole carrier thing, it's not exactly table talk. And honestly? I'm only five weeks gone. I don't want to tell too many people, you know?" He wrinkled his brow, hoping she'd understand. She gave a quick nod and smiled sweetly, before she sealed her lips with a lock and "swallowed" the key. It was enough to make Blaine giggle softly, but he fidgeted all the same, still lost in his own nervous energy.

"Okay, cutie, give me your cell phone and I'll lock in my number. And I want you to call me, text me, whatever. We'll do lunch and buy bigger clothes and talk about our men and be fat and stupid together. Capisce?"

He was actually blushing so hard again that he was a new shade of pink. "Sugar…"

"No, silly, this is your first baby, and we're going to do this right. Now hand over the cell phone."

He did as he was told and actually found himself grinning widely as she added her number and texted herself in record time. Sugar may have been crazy, but if he was going to go through with this, he _would_ need a support system.

And that's when it hit him; there was no other option. He was keeping the baby, and he was going to be happy. Because in spite of the ache that resided at the very pit of his chest and an unwavering sense of dread, this had to be right. He would be a good father, and so would Kurt. It wouldn't be easy, but they'd make it work. With all the love they had for each other, they would pass it on to their child and make compromises and be a family.

After all was said and done, he actually felt something close to _elated_, or as close as he could be in his nervous state. The truth was, Sugar's enthusiasm somehow made it real, even more so than the ultrasound and sonogram and the very pictures he clutched in his hand as he made his way home. A baby was a gift, he told himself, a precious gift that couldn't be thrown out with worry or anxiety or second thoughts. This was he and Kurt's child made completely out of their love, and he or she would be cherished wholeheartedly with all the attention and adoration Blaine could muster.

He could only hope Kurt would come to exactly the same conclusion.


	4. Chapter 4

**Title:** Turning Another Page  
**Characters:** Blaine, Kurt  
**Rating:** M  
**Description: **Kurt and Blaine take on a new obstacle in life, but is either one entirely on board to take on their new responsibility? (Based on the film Nine Months starring Hugh Grant and Julianne Moore.)  
**Warning(s):** MPreg  
**A/N:** Thanks for your patience, I wanted to get this *just* right, and hopefully I came close. The plot is thickening, which is all I'm going to say. The next chapter might be a few more days, like this one. I have a few more stories to tend to that I'm neglecting, but this one is still at the forefront of my mind. As usual, don't like, don't read! But if you are liking this story, please continue to review and tell me what you like and DON'T like about it. The feedback means a lot!

* * *

The _Duane Reade_ bag swung back against Blaine's leg with each step back to his apartment, his heart beating more and more quickly as his journey became shorter by the minute. Half-way home and Kurt had texted him – _Brought home some take-out, didn't feel like cooking. Hope you're feeling better _– which only meant that he would be waiting for him when he got back.

He tried to keep his wits about him as he nodded to the doorman and took the stairs to the third floor, his mind wandering to the idea of trekking up these steps with a sore back and swollen ankles. His heart clenched at the thought and he touched his midsection, but he put it behind him as he used the key to unlock the door (one too many times they'd left the door unlocked only to be interrupted by friends barging in without decorum, often times while in rather delicate positions) and stepped in.

The apartment was silent aside from the soft coo of Edith Piaf coming from the stereo. Blaine could just make out the top of Kurt's head from the sofa and smiled to himself as he set down his bag and the Duane Reade sack. Arms wrapped around Kurt from behind as Blaine kissed the side of Kurt's cheek and nuzzled in his nose. Kurt gasped in surprise but laughed as his fingertips touched Kurt's arm.

"God, you scared me."

Blaine let out a soft sound of recognition before he pulled himself away, just as Kurt turned down the music.

"I see that. You've been home long?"

Kurt shrugged a shoulder back and set aside the remote as he closed his book and took off his glasses. "Just under an hour. Couldn't have gotten home quick enough. The Manhattan Society's gala is in two weeks and 500 yards of fabric had to be sacked because of a shipment error." He let out a sigh as he rubbed his eye with the back of his hand.

"Jesus, that sucks," Blaine muttered, apprehensively pulling away his windbreaker as he felt a sweat coming on. "I heard something about take-out. Chinese or Indian this time?" His stomach twisted once more and he blanched, which Kurt soon picked up on as he turned against the sofa and watched his boyfriend. Nonetheless, Blaine was feeling a little peckish, having avoided food most of the way.

"Mmm, Thai. I got you some pad thai. Hey, did you make an appointment to see the doctor?"

Blaine hadn't realized he was pacing until he met Kurt's eyes and stopped. His hands balled up and he nodded once before he crossed his arms.

"Actually, they squeezed me in around four."

"Oh!" Kurt smiled sweetly, turning his head slightly. "How'd it go?"

"Fine, fine, You know, just—" He swung around on the balls of his feet and let out a sigh, his hands dropping from his chest. He couldn't lie and he couldn't dig himself into a hole either. Kurt had to find out sooner or later, and the sooner the better. He was one half of this, after all, and if he couldn't tell him from the get-go, how in the hell would they ever begin to figure this out?

He was silent for longer than he strictly meant to be. So much so that Kurt actually got up off the couch and touched his cheek, looking him square in the eye. His forehead was creased with worry, and damn Blaine's lack of poker face. For all Kurt knew, he could be dying of cancer.

"Blaine, what is it?"

Fingers wrapped around Blaine's as Blaine bowed his head down to the floor, still trying to muster up the courage to tell the man that he loved that they'd slipped up. He took in another deep breath and didn't meet his eyes, his lip catching between his teeth.

"Are you sick?" Kurt pried more, his voice an octave higher. "Whatever it is, we'll… we'll figure it out. We'll get you whatever treatment—we'll—"

"'M pregnant."

And just like that, it was out in the open. Blaine's hands pulled up to press against his cheeks, and before he knew it, there were tears in his eyes once more, tears he hadn't shed since the doctor's office. He hiccupped a small, humorless laugh before he met Kurt's eyes, but Kurt's expression was a blank palette, almost as though he hadn't heard him the first time.

"I'm pregnant," Blaine repeated once more as he bit back down on his bottom lip.

Kurt's mouth fell flat and seemed to lock in place as he took one step back. It was complete and utter silence between the two of them before Blaine spoke up again, his heart quickening and his voice cracking. Although he tried not to jump to conclusions, but he felt as though he was standing on quicksand and sinking quickly.

"I'm sorry, Kurt," he started, his vision swimming with oncoming tears despite his own best wishes. "I know we tried everything not to let this happen. And I should've I known I was, but I didn't—I'd hoped-"

Kurt finally spoke up, his own voice caught in his throat. "How far along? I mean, when did…?

"Five weeks. Our anniversary. I took a test, then the doctor…"

"We used _protection_." The sound of his own voice surprised Kurt, and letting out a small gasp, he covered his mouth and met Blaine's eyes.

Blaine just shook his head, tears still piercing and threatening to spill. "Not that night. After the picnic, remember? We raced back to the hotel room. We…"

"But what about the… your… Pacronor—is it? Pacro-something."

"It's only 97% effective, Kurt."

"97 percent effective… does that mean that the one time you don't put on a condom it's rendered completely use—" He stopped himself then, his hands falling from his face as he took in a sharp breath. Blaine cowered in smaller and crossed his arms, only to feel Kurt wrap himself around him tightly and bury him closer. "I'm sorry. I'm so s-sorry, that was inappropriate."

Blaine actually snorted as he buried himself in closer, arms wrapping tightly around his boyfriend. "Yeah. Kind of." He hiccupped a small laugh, even if it stung. Kurt just tightened his grip as Blaine's forehead buried into his shoulder, and the silence between them was so thick that it could be cut through with a knife. But finally he felt Kurt's arms pull away, and maybe it wasn't so easy to let go. Maybe he wanted to be held for hours, just to be assured that this was _okay_. Kurt hadn't left and no one was screaming, so maybe it was? But then again…

"So do you know what you want to do about it? I mean…" Kurt shrugged a shoulder back and fumbled to cross his arms again. Blaine's jaw slacked slightly as he turned his head away, before a hand involuntarily moved to brush back over his flat tummy.

"I, I was going to keep it." He met his gaze once more and visibly bristled, and he maybe he sounded a little dejected. His own voice surprised him, and Kurt seemed to catch on to that as he nodded his head quickly and fumbled awkwardly.

"I mean, of course, I want you to. I just want what's best for you—for _us_."

"Really?" Blaine's voice perked up a bit as Kurt managed a smile.

"S-Sure…" Kurt's eyes dropped down to the floor before he took in a deep breath. "It's just a lot to take in, you know? I thought we could at least talk it through first."

"Accidents happen, Kurt. And what good would it have done to talk about it first? We were caught in the moment. We were even fair to assume that the Pacronor would work. But it didn't, and now we pretty much have to face the consequences. But Kurt…"

Kurt looked up then at a spot from the floor, having clearly not been listening for the last minute or so. But he offered a smile nonetheless and shifted to rest his weight against the back of the sofa. "Mmm? Blaine?"

Blaine's chest tightened again, but he resiliently continued. "I want the baby. I didn't know if I did at first. At first I panicked, but then I realized—_remembered_..." Blaine looked back into Kurt's eyes, swallowing back the lump in his throat. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you. And I know it'd be a change, a big change, but we love each other, and we have _so much_ love to give, you know?"

Kurt sucked in a deep breath of hesitation, attempting to find his voice as his eyes stopped to Blaine's midsection and eventually to his piercing gaze.

"Kurt, y-you gotta say something." Blaine's voice caught in his throat once more as he crossed his arms uncomfortably.

"I'm happy," Kurt whispered, and he barely recognized the sound of his own voice. "M happy."

The earth shifted from underneath Blaine's feet and nearly slipped him through an invisible undertow. Seconds before he was explaining how badly he wanted this baby, and now—hell, maybe Kurt was just as long as confused as he was. Maybe he needed a little bit of time to warm up to this or a burst of elation, just as Blaine had.

"You're…" He looked back at Kurt hesitantly, who rubbed the back of his neck.

"I'm happy! S'great. Sweetie, I love you. C'mere." Kurt opened his arms for Blaine to step in, and Blaine was more than happy to do so, finally letting out a small laugh as he buried himself back into his shoulder, tears staining his cheeks. Five weeks and his damn hormones were already getting the best of him, but to hear it from Kurt's mouth that this was okay, that they could actually make this work – it was music to his ears and the only confirmation he needed to help him sleep that night.

"R-really?" He asked again, pulling back to meet his boyfriend's eyes.

Kurt let out another surprised laugh and shrugged his shoulders up. "Yeah… yeah! Of course. Just you, me, a baby…"

Blaine dabbed at his own cheek and burst into laughter. "And we won't let it change us. I won't allow it. We'll still be the same us, just… just a family."

"You're crying," Kurt mumbled, brushing his thumb against Blaine's cheek as Blaine let out another shy laugh.

"I've been doing that since the doctor's office." He took a step back and sniffled once more.

"It's okay," Kurt whispered, offering Blaine a small but tight smile and nodding his head. Blaine laughed once more and bobbed his head up and down more confidently, before he took Kurt's hand and pressed it tight against his still flat midsection. Kurt's eyes blew as he let out a small gasp and choked on his own breath. Honestly, none of it seemed real, and as happy as Kurt appeared on the outside, he was a stammering basket case with not the first clue as to what was ahead of him.

"You're, uh, still tiny," Kurt mused, if only to fill the awkward silence as Blaine pressed his fingers into one spot. Blaine let out a quick, short laugh and grinned widely, the laugh lines springing up in all the beautiful places.

"Not for long, I'm afraid." Humming quietly, he wrapped his fingers through Kurt's and swung them back, his eyes locking into his once more as he leaned back on his hips. Kurt simply shrugged back, for lack of a better statement, and let out a nervous laugh.

"Uh, no, I guess not for long, huh?"

If only Blaine could see hear how loudly he was screaming.

Blaine's hands sprung from Kurt's as he took a step back and unlaced his fingers. "Here, I gotta show you something. It's um, the doctor I went to was really good. He really understood a lot about carriers."

Pulling away from Blaine's embrace, Kurt leaned back against the sofa and offered Blaine a pinched smile as he brought a hand up to rub his forehead. "Did he, honey?"

"So much. I can't wait for you to meet him. I really think we should go with him. Will you go with me to my next appointment?" Kurt found himself nodding and let out a small sound of recognition as Blaine fished through his bag, his back turned to his boyfriend as he took out the manila envelope. "These are um, these are from the ultrasound."

He handed Kurt the envelope as he stuffed his hands into his back pockets and watched nervously. Kurt gave a strained smile and peeked into the envelope, and just as Blaine was about to say something, his phone blared from across the room. Blaine was tempted to let it go to voicemail, but his Katy Perry ringtone, which his students (and Kurt) teased him endlessly for, chimed relentlessly from the inside pocket of his bag.

"Hol… hold that thought." He raised a finger and grinned as he sprinted his way over to his phone, actually elated to see Sugar's name on his caller I.D. He picked up the phone quickly and leaned his weight against a chair, his fingers brushing back against his midsection with a new feeling of worth and protection.

"Hey, Sugar. How're you doing? I'm… I'm great actually." He grinned once more, peeking a quick glance back over to Kurt. "Listen, I can't talk long, we're kind of in the middle of—"

Kurt turned his back away from the private conversation and reached into the envelope for the roll of the pictures. Blaine was still talking excitedly over the phone as he pulled them out and squinted slightly, trying to make out the images. To be fair, all he saw was a little white dot at the middle-left hand corner with a blurry smudge off to the side of it, and not much else.

"…Lunch tomorrow? Tomorrow isn't so good. Is next Monday all right? Maybe for dinner? We can always just eat at our place, or yours is fine—oh, ours it is. Sure, you probably could, but I'd have to ask Kurt—"

Kurt hadn't even picked up any of the conversation as he stared back at the photo, his heart rate picking up steadily. Because whether or not it looked like a baby or a worm or a smudge, it had been taken _today_ and it was growing inside of Blaine at an ever steady rate. Soon it would go from a tadpole to a lima bean to a golf ball to a cantaloupe to a living, breathing, crying, eating, pooping human that would rely completely on Blaine and himself for all of its needs. He paled slightly and had barely noticed Blaine hang up the phone and wrap his arms around him from behind, chin resting on his shoulder.

"Pretty cool, huh? Dr. Green was hell bent on giving me an ultrasound. I guess he believed it before I did."

Kurt made a small sound of recognition and nodded his head, still transfixed on the photo. "Who—who was that?"

Blaine turned his head slightly. "Remember Sam and Sugar from the beach?"

A crease formed on Kurt's forehead as he paled slightly. Kurt didn't need to jar his memory either. He'd never forget his massacred hummus and lost desserts. "Those vile people and their obnoxious dog and children?" Blaine made a soft 'tsk' sound and squeezed his boyfriend slightly as Kurt slid the photos back into the envelope. "Sure, what about them?"

"Mmm, be that as you think, I was on the phone with Sugar. Ran into her today at the doctor. She's expecting, too."

Kurt actually scoffed as he turned back to look at Blaine. "She's… what is she a Labrador? How many kids do they have now?"

"Kurt," Blaine let out a muffled laugh against the back of his head and sighed into his shoulder. "It's not our place to judge. She can actually help us out a lot. C'mon, I invited them over for next Monday."

Kurt's eyes widened as he turned in Blaine's arms and faced him. "Here? You invited them _here?_"

"Well, sure." Blaine flashed a small smile. "I thought we could cook or—"

"Honey, that's the week running up to the big gala." He unconsciously took a hold of Blaine's fingers and gave them a squeeze. "I'm up to my neck in stress. I can't possibly _entertain_ anyone."

Blaine's face slowly fell as he twisted his fingers away. "You… you can't just take one night off? To be fair, we haven't really had an opportunity to see each other much since the Hamptons, and you run yourself so ragged at the line."

"Blaine, I _am_ the line."

"Exactly. You are the line. So give yourself the night off. Please."

Kurt raised a hand and let out a patient sigh. "It's not that simple. You and I both know that. And the damn studio has already been setback a few extra days because of this fabric shortage—" Blaine's head lopped to the side as he crossed his arms, disappointing staring Kurt right in the face before Blaine just had to look away.

"Honey, please don't look at me like that, you know this has been my whole life for… months now. It's the run-up to the event and I… I'm honestly not myself right now. After that, I'm all yours for brunch or dinner or—God knows what."

"You promise?" He met Kurt's eyes once more before they scattered back down to the floor, and he couldn't help but smile as Kurt lifted up his chin slightly.

"If it means that much to you, yes, I promise. But please, real food, not… _Buca Di Beppo_ or _Applebees_ or wherever it is that huge families flock to."

Blaine's smile widened as he lopped his head to the side, and he tried to push down that heightened sense of disappointment. But family equaled sacrifices, and to be fair, the line did mean the world to Kurt. Dinner with Sugar and Sam could always be rescheduled.

"I'll tell them it's a busy week for us, but as for those restaurant choices, I _think_ they've got a hair bit more class and money than that. But I'll ask them if they'll consider. Don't rule out the _Olive Garden_."

Kurt let out a burst of laughter before he met Blaine's serious gaze once more, and just as he was about to contest, Blaine held up one solitary finger and shook his head. A moment of comfortable silence passed between them once more – no babies, no work, no loud friends, no stress – before Blaine spoke up again, letting out a wistful sigh.

"Just don't miss any of our appointments and we're good to go."

The buds in Kurt's eyes didn't fade as he felt a dull but aching throb at the center of his chest. And offering his boyfriend one last nod, he pulled his arm back in to hug at his shoulders, his lips pressed to his temple. "I'll pencil them in, myself."

And Blaine believed him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Title:** Turning Another Page  
**Characters:** Blaine, Kurt  
**Rating:** M  
**Description: **Kurt and Blaine take on a new obstacle in life, but is either one entirely on board to take on their new responsibility? (Based on the film Nine Months starring Hugh Grant and Julianne Moore.)  
**Warning(s):** MPreg  
**A/N:** I seriously apologize BIG TIME for the delay. The truth is that I was stressing over this chapter so much. Finally decided to just put it out there and let you guys judge it for yourselves. It isn't the best, but now that I've got it out there, I can get this story rolling a bit more. Thank you for your patience and for your feedback c:

* * *

Nearly four weeks had passed and Kurt had sufficiently buried himself in his work.

It hadn't even been particularly intentional, he told himself. It just seemed that, in tandem with Blaine's announcement, the phone calls and commitments piled up at a skyrocketing rate, so much so that Kurt could barely contain his own wits about him. Every spare minute seemed to be spent hovering over his desk or shooting another memo off to his secretary or speaking with such-and-such over the phone over profoundly important matters.

Kurt had hated the look in his boyfriend's eyes when he absolutely had to turn down Blaine's impromptu follow-up appointment with his doctor, intended just to go over a few of Blaine's questions and run a few more tests. Blaine had brushed it off, sure. He'd smiled, assured Kurt that they were just vitals and nothing… nothing particularly pressing. But Blaine had turned his head away and had barely met Kurt's gaze for the rest of the day, which was reason enough for Kurt to be—

He cursed under his breath as he pricked his finger with the needle once more, sucking back down on his index to stub the miniscule prick.

It wasn't that he couldn't find anyone to hem his suit for him; it's just that he rather enjoyed the mundane activity, himself. He knew his own body better than tape measurers (he watched his weight meticulously), and taking in fabric kept his mind abreast and fresh. A true architect of design, he could draw and sketch the most exquisite couture for hours to come. But at the end of the day, he was a boy with a needle and fabric, and it took his mind off the inevitable.

The inevitable being the fact that Blaine was pregnant.

_Actually pregnant_, Kurt uttered to himself. _But ill, very ill. _Because it seemed that every time Kurt walked in on Blaine, he was hunched over the toilet or turning green at the sight of food in front of him. Kurt frowned at the thought of it, at the thought of this—_this new development_ throwing Blaine through a tornado and ravaging his body. One morning, Kurt had woken up to find Blaine slumbering against the toilet bowl, mouth slack open and eyes closed. Kurt had helped him back to bed and whispered into his ear sweetly, only for Blaine to feel a familiar swish in his belly and dive back toward the bathroom.

Over the course of eight and a half weeks, Blaine had actually _lost_ a solid three pounds, and whatever food he managed to hold down left him groggy and stuffed. Blaine simply felt full all over; full and funny and prickly and out of control, like an alien had taken over his body and was holding him captive.

Yet somehow, Blaine still awoke at five in the morning to get ready for work, going about his early morning routine sans his black coffee. The few times Kurt had woken up alongside him (what difference would it make what time he rose if he hadn't managed to get to sleep anyway), he'd watched groggily as Blaine fixed himself a piece of toast, about the only thing he could hold down, and went about his morning mundanely, occasionally stopping to place a hand to his midsection and just smile.

Because no matter how sick and pale and utterly exhausted Blaine was, Blaine seemed happy. Or, if not happy, at least content. And it showed in the way he spoke over the phone or when Kurt greeted him for the day or when Blaine simply mutter to no one in particular, "take it easy" or "I'm going to eat now, is that going to be cool with you?" And then Blaine would smile up at Kurt and Kurt would smile back far too nervously; if Blaine noticed, he didn't breach the topic.

Coming on to nine weeks, Blaine had a bit more time before his belly would distend and the outward appearances of his condition would set in. Still, too many nights Kurt had found himself propped on the sofa, staring at the five week old sonogram. Kurt was a logical person, the most logical person he knew; he'd accepted that this was happening, and he sure as hell wasn't going to leave his darling partner or break Blaine's reverie. But he was still trying to make sense of it all as the pulse behind his ear quickened at the thought of it.

And then there were the Evans, which was truly another topic for another day. Suffice to say, Kurt had stomached lunch and a casual dinner, though had it not been for Blaine's continuous prodding, he'd be spewing vitriol on a daily basis. Blaine swore up and down that Sugar, only a week ahead of them and already showing, was something of a God send, but as Kurt wasn't privy to any higher power, he swore off the comment and remained diplomatic.

It wasn't that they were particularly bad people; they just weren't _his_ kind of people.

Kurt nearly fell out of his chair as Francine, his wonderful and reliable secretary, spoke from the intercom. His finger pricked back against the needle, and he cursed under his breath before he pressed the speaker button.

"Francie … speaking!"

"_Kurt, is now a bad time?"_ Francine could usually gauge or predestine Kurt's disposition or requests before he opened his mouth.

Kurt paused momentarily.

"It's fine. What's up?"

"_Line one. It's Rachel."_

Kurt's brow furrowed slightly. It wasn't that he didn't love his old high school buddy, but she was a lot to handle on any given day. Naturally, she had pursued acting and lit up the lights of Broadway. Last Kurt had checked, she was currently strutting her stuff as Evita or something equally as deserving of her tremendous talent.

"Can you leave a message?"

"_Already tried."_ He heard the fond lilt in Francine's voice and softened his gaze. _"But I'm pretty sure she has surveillance vision that can see into your office at all hours of the day or around-the-clock cracked CCTV. You might want to look into that."_

Kurt just snorted as he folded his suit into a clean pile and set it on to his desk neatly. "I'll take it from here. Thanks, Francie."

"_Any time, boss."_

He switched lines and cleared his throat, staring up at his ceiling. "Let me guess. You got cast in Wicked."

Rachel let out a gasp from across the line. Kurt could practically feel the light shove against his shoulder, as if Rachel was sitting right beside him. _"In my wildest dreams, Kurt! Actually, I'm calling to put in a favor."_

"The Zac Posen mini I saw you eyeballing? I'll see what I can do. Although, if you want my brutal opinion, I could sketch you up something more flattering. Not that you couldn't rock the legs-for-days look, but I'm working on this great piece—"

"_Actually, it's more of a personal favor. Not that there isn't anything personal about the Posen piece; it is one of a kind, after all, and…"_

Kurt's tone dropped an octave as he examined his cuticles, one-by-one. "Spit it out, Berry, before I hang you by your mile-long collection of heinous tartan skirts."

"_You know the guy I've been seeing? Joshua, the impossibly dark, handsome fellow with…"_

"You mean, 'Mr. Hot Ass?'"

Kurt could practically see Rachel's ears turn pink from across the city.

"_**Joshua**__, rather." _She took in a deep breath and composed herself once more. _"Anyway, Joshua is having something of an informal get together this coming Friday. Cocktails, hor d'oeuvres, a little night music at the piano, maybe a… duet, you could say."_

"If you're asking me to come, the answer is yes, but as for duets, you'll have to ask him, yourself. I can't gauge what he'll say, but he hasn't been feeling too well lately." He felt a lurch in his gut; he and Blaine had agreed to keep their little secret to themselves until the second trimester, so much so that Blaine had avoided informing his work. It's bad luck, he'd said.

"_Oh, still?"_ Rachel let out a small coo of empathy_. "Has he been to the doctor's yet? You know, I could always bring over more of my hearty, dairy-free lentil soup. My new recipe!"_

Kurt made a noticeable gag motion from where he was sitting. The last time they'd accepted such a "prize" dish from Rachel, they'd called out from work… for a _week_. "He's been. The doctor prescribed him some medication and told him to touch base in a few weeks."

Not a technical lie, but not the whole truth. Kurt sucked in a deep breath; he hated evading the truth, particularly with such a good friend. He could really use someone to confide in, but his overlying fear of judgment loomed over him like a dark cloud. Knowing Rachel, she'd probably help pick out the wallpaper, but he wasn't quite to that stage yet. He shifted uncomfortably and bowed his head.

"_Well, ask him for me and touch base when you know. I just found the perfect arrangement for Cole Porter's 'You're the Top,' and I believe that Blaine would make the perfect Billy Crocker to my bright-eyed Reno Sweeney."_

Kurt felt a slight tightening of his heart. He had known Rachel Berry a whopping ten years, if memory served him right, yet he could barely count the times on one hand that they'd shared a duet. Yet somehow, Blaine Anderson had managed to roll into a karaoke bar, sing a drunken rendition of "Losing My Religion," and become Rachel's number one duet partner ever since.

Hell, Blaine wasn't even particularly a Broadway aficionado, at least not to Kurt's level. It's just that Blaine seemed content as a school teacher, even though he had all the makings of a star – the talent, the face, the charm, the tender quality of his voice. Kurt _was not_ jealous. It was merely a fact that Blaine was leading man material, if Blaine's status as head Warbler – William McKinley's rival show choir for years upon years – throughout high school was any indication.

"I'm sure he'd love to do it," Kurt settled, his eyes closing pensively.

Rachel practically _squee'd_ on the other end. _"And one more thing, if it's not too much—"_

"The Zac Posen?"

"_Yeah, maybe the Zac Posen."_

Kurt rolled his eyes but smiled fondly, nonetheless. "You're too much. I'll put in a few phone calls."

"_Kurt, you are a dream!"_

"I said I'd put in some phone calls. For all you know, I might just rip the tag off a dress at Sears."

Rachel giggled before her voice took a stern approach_. "Honestly, like you'd even step foot there. Kurt Hummel."_

"Hey, I've been in Sears. To pick out a trash compactor. Which will be the state of your little black dress if you don't leave me to my delightful connection with a top dog designer."

"_Hmm, you may have simply described yourself."_

Kurt flushed red; no matter how stoic he appeared to come off as, a compliment was still a compliment. But he knew he was good. Damn good, actually. Good enough to make it as far as he had with as young as he still was. Buzz was building more and more by the day and it was because of him. He couldn't be prouder. He'd build his baby from the ground up, and his grand investments were finally reaping actual benefits.

He was the very antithesis of a Lima Loser and it felt exhilarating.

"_Kurt?"_

Yet somehow, Kurt Hummel's feet dragged down the halls of his offices, as if he carried the weight of a million and one thoughts looming over his shoulders. Blaine _had_ to know that he hadn't particularly wanted kids—hadn't he? But Blaine wasn't exactly the sabotaging type. He had a career and a job and a commute, a very _far_ commute of seven and a half blocks on foot, and who the hell would want to walk seven whole blocks when they're pregnant and humungous?

"_Kurt!"_

_There's no way we're selling the apartment_, Kurt quickly thought to himself.

"_Kuuurt, can you hear me?"_

Blaine simply would never push Kurt into anything—it had caught them both by surprise. As much of the family man as Blaine was, he truly respected Kurt and he would never… not in a million years. They weren't even _married_. And they were happy that way. This was as much Kurt's fault as it was Blaine's. They would get through it, one step at a time.

"_KURT!"_

"Blaine is... Blaine is pregnant."

There was a deafening silence on the other end. Kurt's hand slid back over his mouth and he let out a small groan; so he'd actually said that outloud. So much for keeping it in the bag. Rachel gasped from the opposite end, and if Kurt listened close enough, he could hear her metaphorically collecting her jaw from off the floor.

"_He's—Kurt!"_

Kurt was simply mortified as he swiveled back in his chair and clutched his midsection.

"Oh, god, I wasn't supposed to tell you, he's going to kill me."

"_A baby… you're having a __**baby**__."_

"Rachel, please don't." He pinched his brow and waved a hand. "Please, don't text him, you can't let him know that you know."

Rachel huffed. _"And why the hell not?"_

"Because he's only nine weeks... barely, and just to be on the safe side—I mean it, please?"

Rachel nodded her head astutely, before she made a small squeaking noise synonymous with squealing_. "I simply cannot believe you two are going to be dads! I had no idea Blaine's a carrier. I should give you my papa Hiram's number, he could tell you all about when dad was expecting little ol' me, and you two need all the advice you can get! I was always the little attention grabber, bouncing all over the place as early as I possibly cou—"_

Kurt pressed his fingers back against the bridge of his nose and let out a sigh. "As much as I'd love to learn all about your early fetal developments, I have actual work that needs to be accomplished, including snatching that dress for you in record time."

"_Ooh, Kurt! Lighten up for once, will you? This could be a once in a lifetime thing! Aren't you excited?"_

Kurt was deafly quiet.

"Rachel, I'm terrified. I mean, kids, Kurt Hummel. My career, alone. I hadn't exactly put this on the agenda. How does this even add up?"

"_Hey, if it's happening now, maybe it's meant to be. I know that sounds clichéd—"_

He hissed quietly. "Just a bit."

"—_But you and Blaine love each other. Like, a disgusting amount. You're both going to be incredible fathers. Coming from two of the best, I'm an excellent judge of character in that regard."_

Kurt hummed in quiet recognition.

"_Besides, it was only time before I was going to offer my uterus up to you anyway."_

Kurt's groaned lightheartedly as leaned back in his chair and shook his head. "And what makes you think we would have said yes?"

"_Please,"_ Rachel scoffed. _"Blaine would have leapt at the chance. He was practically going gaga over Tina and Mike's new baby at the reunion. If nothing else, you've snatched yourself up a family man, which is nothing to slouch at. I mean, do you know how hard it is to find a decent, non-sketchy guy in this city? Take Joshua, for example. For every Joshua, there's ten Clives—you remember Clive, don't you? Mr. Mole? Kurt? Kurt. Don't do this to me again. Kurt—"_

Kurt sat in silence once more, pinching at his bottom lip before he reached for the phone and pulled it closer. "Sorry, Rach, I gotta go. Call you later, thanks."

"_Kurt, don't you—"_

One quick click and Kurt picked up the receiver, quickly dialing his boyfriend's number by memory as his heart rate shot through the roof. He found himself smiling as he flipped the phone to his opposite ear, his stomach swooping as Blaine answered in quiet but elated surprise. Kurt must have caught him right between classes, judging by the time.

"Hey, you—yeah, of course it's me. Does a man need a reason to call his boyfriend from work? Listen, have you eaten? W-what if I put off the rest of today and brought us sack lunches…"

_Baby steps_, he silently uttered to himself.

Baby steps.


End file.
